Birthright 1: The Assignment
by Soledad
Summary: How came that Rannveig was sent out to that faithful mission? First story of the "Birthright" series, focusing exclusively on Perseids. Story complete and now even beta read.
1. Part 1

**BIRTHRIGHT 1 – THE ASSIGNMENT**

**by Soledad**

**Title:** Birthright 1 – The Assignment

**Author:** Soledad

**Fandom:** Andromeda

**Genre:** Action/Adventure, Drama, maybe a touch of Romance – take your pick. My stories are rarely limited to any specific genre.

**Rating:** G.

**Disclaimer:** Andromeda is the product of Gene Roddenberry's genius. The other rights belong to Tribune Entertainment. I own nothing, except the weird plot idea and a few OCs.

**Summary:** How came that Rannveig was sent off on that fateful last mission? This is one possible explanation.

**Archiving:** Please, ask first. I want to know where stuff is going.

**Dedication:** To the members of the Memory Alpha Yahoo Group. Without their support I'd never have been able to write this story.

**Timeframe:** the first season of Andromeda, the very beginning of the series. The events described here take place during and shortly after episode 1.03: _To Loose the Faithful Lightning_.

**Location:** the planet Sinti IV. Obviously.

**Author's notes:**

In this story, there will be Perseids, and Perseids only. It is as canonical as possible, using background facts from both the All Systems University official database and Lady Maigrey's excellent Andromeda site. Unfortunately, canon facts about Perseids in general and the characters appearing in this story in particular are rather sparse. So I had to fill the gaps somehow, hoping that I won't contradict canon in any way.

Throughout the story, I refer to Perseids as 'he'. I know they are hermaphrodites, and I tried to work with gender-neutral pronouns, but they just sounded too weird to me. So yes, I know it's not completely accurate, but at least it isn't ridiculous.

And yes, this is not a very Dylan Hunt-friendly story. Personally, I found his actions in _To Loose the Fateful Lightning_ hair-raising, to put it mildly. So, if you are uncomfortable with criticism concerning his person or his actions, this story probably isn't for you.

Beta read by Erinnyes, whom I owe my never-ending gratitude

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**PART 1**

The regularly scheduled meeting of the Sinti Council of Directors – the ruling body of Sinti IV, one of the eldest Perseid colony worlds – was due to start in a few minutes. Most members of the Council had arrived already and were exchanging news in the usual animated manner of their race. Only Nabroth, the Overseer, was still missing, but everyone knew that he wouldn't make one of his dramatic appearances until the exact chime of the bell that signalled the beginning of the meeting. As always.

Most of his colleagues found this custom of his fairly annoying, but even they agreed that the Overseer needed at least _some_ air of importance. Nominally the leader of the whole planet, he couldn't make any important decisions without the Council sanctioning them, and that could be frustrating sometimes. It was only right that he got the chance to feel important.

This system had worked for centuries, and the Perseids saw no reason to change it. Nabroth was a genius when it came to economics – that had been the reason why he got his post in the first place – and being Economic Director was enough responsibility for one person, even if it wasn't a spectacular job. Aside from his formal title of Overseer, Nabroth was simply a member of the Council – a fact he seemed to forget sometimes, to the others' mild dismay.

Technical Director Höhne, the highly respected leader of the Sinti IV Institute of Advanced Technology, stood at one of the large, open windows of the Council Chamber and looked out at the beauty that was Sedrea Beach. As always, he was thankful to his ancestors who had chosen to build the main settlements in the equatorial area. With climates from temperate to sub-arctic, this was the most pleasant zone of the entire planet. Even though the beach lay some two miles away, he could smell the saltiness of the seawater and hear the harsh call of the sea birds, while the sun warmed his face. His home was a wonderful place, and he intended to protect it by any means necessary.

Like many other Perseids born on one of the few remaining colony planets scattered across the Perseid Arm of the Milky Way Galaxy, Höhne had visited Ugroth, the ancestral homeworld of their race a few times. More often than others, in fact, since his position demanded to keep good contacts with his fellow scientists on _all_ Perseid worlds. So, yes, he had seen Ugroth several times – but didn't want to live on Ugroth, or even to return there too often.

Not that Ugroth had been an unpleasant place – far from it. With its diverse climates and varied terrain, it was a virtual paradise. Or it would have been, if its population had remained as low as it used to be during the Commonwealth era. But after the fall of the Long Night, the great majority of Perseids fled from the colonies, triggering a massive reverse exodus to the homeworld. With the questionable result that since the _Great Gathering_, as it was called, a hundred and fifty billion Perseids lived there – a hundred times as many as during the Commonwealth era – making Ugroth the most densely populated planet in known space.

Of course, a population like that could only be supplied with the necessities of life by massive agricultural imports as well as the tapping of the planet's molten core for geothermal energy. And while it seemed to work out nicely enough, and the new architecture that had been developed due to the need to simply give shelter to so many people was truly breath-taking, Höhne very much preferred his own home.

Among other Perseid colonies – such as Hamsa and Sparborth, just to name a few – Sinti IV had always been special: a centre of learning and research, while the Commonwealth still existed. And though the settlements had suffered greatly from plundering Nietzscheans, raiding Magog swarms, and other misfortunes, resilient as Perseids generally were, their inhabitants had managed to preserve and even advance scientific knowledge in the face of overwhelming odds. Instead of running home like so many of their people, they had stood up to whatever the Universe might have thrown at them – and prevailed. In fact, this small planet, which was only three quarters the size of Ugroth, with its two hundred and thirty-seven million inhabitants, became one of the most important scientific centres of the Known Worlds. A fact that always filled Höhne with pride, knowing that he and his colleagues had no small part in that impressive achievement.

"You are in a very thoughtful mood, today, my friend," a soft voice said, and turning away from the window, he saw Cernan, the Diplomatic Director, standing nearby.

Cernan was small and unusually fragile for a Perseid, who tended to have a robust build (even though they couldn't measure themselves to the Nietzscheans, of course), with a round and gentle face, and delicate chin ridges, which seemed to be the reason while humans of all sorts instinctively thought him to be a 'female' Perseid, even though they knew that there was no such thing. For his part, Cernan had great fun with this, even wearing a decidedly feminine-looking shroud when dealing with humans or their Nietzschean cousins. It made them underestimate him, which often served to his advantage.

"I am a little concerned," Höhne admitted.

"About the rumours that the _Andromeda Ascendant_ has been found?" Cernan asked.

"They're more than just rumours, I'm afraid," Höhne said. "My contact on El Dorado Drift has confirmed the fact that the _Andromeda_ has indeed been freed from the accretion disk of the Hephaestus black hole. By a thirty-year-old rustbin of a salvage ship, no less."

"Your contact is a Nietzschean, without a Pride or a family," Cernan pointed out. "Are you sure he hasn't lied to you?"

"As sure as one can be with Nietzscheans," Höhne shrugged. "I've had…dealings with Kaveh Hamayouni for years by now – so far, he's proved himself reliable. _And_ he keeps tabs on his fellow Nietzscheans, especially on the lone wolves like himself. That's a very useful pastime for us…to know where the mercenaries operate."

"Was one of those involved in the salvage?" Cernan asked. Höhne nodded.

"Apparently. One of the best: Tyr Anasazi. I assume you've heard of him?"

"Who hasn't?" Cernan replied with a practiced eye roll. "Wherever chaos and mayhem would happen, Tyr Anasazi can't be very far. Well, I guess, I shouldn't be surprised. A Glorious Heritage-class warship of the High Guard…a professional Nietzschean assassin would never let that slip through his fingers. I must admit, the thought of Tyr Anasazi getting his hands on that kind of weaponry makes me…uncomfortable."

"Then you can relax," Höhne said. "It seems that the _Andromeda_ wasn't completely a relict, dead in space. The ship's AI was still functional, and her captain, a human named Dylan Hunt, was still onboard, alive and well, after three hundred years frozen in time."

"Interesting," Cernan thought about the news for a moment; Höhne could almost see the wheels spinning in his head. "Does this mean that all is well, then?"

"I don't know," Höhne said slowly. "The…data from that time are incomplete, to say the least. There are indications that the _Andromeda_ might have been armed with Nova bombs."

"_Nova bombs_?" Cernan became ash grey from the shock. "By Ugroth's turquoise seas…how many?"

"The sources say forty," Höhne replied grimly. "Now, reports tell about a quite spectacular explosion that supposedly turned Hephaestus into a white hole – at least for a few minutes, before the procedure would be reversed – which could mean that they used the bombs to free themselves."

"_All_ of them?" Cernan asked.

Höhne shrugged. "There's no way to tell. Unless I get the chance to go aboard and take a look."

"That's a possibility," Cernan said. "Sooner or later, this Captain Hunt would need help with his ship. It's a three-hundred-year-old relic, after all. And whom could he turn for help than to us? We always had good relations to humans. We were the ones who sponsored them into the Commonwealth, after all. The old High Guard reflexes will lead him to us – and whom else than _you_ could we send him, when it's time?"

Höhne eyed the delightfully devious little diplomat with appreciation.

"Cernan, we should consider procreating together," he proposed. "Any offspring with my scientific talent and your devious mindset would be predestined to a steep career."

Cernan laughed – not in the high-pitched, chirpy tone he used to fool humans and Nietzscheans, but deeply and pleasantly. "I'll think about it. I haven't selected a mating partner for my next cycle yet."

"I'd be honoured," Höhne bowed his head. "I shall send you the particulars to see when our cycles might come in alignment."

"That'd be acceptable," Cernan grinned. "There's no need to rush, we can wait for the best suitable time."

The bell interrupted their conversation. All Council members hurried to their seats to pay proper respect to their Overseer. He _did_ wear the title, after all, regardless of what their personal opinion might have been about him. It was a matter of protocol, and though Perseids weren't as obsessed with protocol as their Castalian associates, proper manners were highly appreciated among them.

The door opened, and Nabroth made his usual appearance. Wearing dark burgundy red as his office demanded, he was as big and masculine as Cernan was petite and delicate, with chiselled features that visiting humans seemed to find quite handsome, and a long, elegantly ridged chin that, on the other hand, every Perseid admired. But even more admiration had he earned among his people through his remarkable mind that helped Sinti IV to a boast of economic success that the colony hadn't known since the fall of the Commonwealth. For all these remarkable traits, the others were willing to overlook his sometimes abrasive personality.

To everyone's honest surprise, Nabroth abstained from his usual long and elaborate opening speech.

"Take your seats, esteemed colleagues," he said. "We have a…situation at hand, concerning GS92196."

All eyes turned to Desabri, the Director of Social Sciences, who was best versed in Commonwealth history.

"An abandoned relic just outside the Dyhedra System," the long-nosed historian said promptly. "A former High Guard starport and repair facility, if I remember correctly. It used to be a true jewel in the Commonwealth's crown. After the Fall, however, it became free prey. Magog swarms and Nietzschean pirates have often raided it for technology and spare parts, it's said. Small wonder, by a station in easy striking distance of a Magog-infested system."

"Not so abandoned as we thought, it seems," Nabroth said grimly. "Apparently, it has been manned all the time, and we didn't even know it."

"Manned by whom?" Cernan asked in surprise.

"By human children," Nabroth answered. "The youthful descendants of High Guard personnel that used to man the station. Somehow, they have managed to survive, handing down knowledge – corrupted knowledge that is – from generation to generation, and carry on many Commonwealth customs and rituals, albeit in severely bastardized form. It seems that they all had a very short lifespan, due to radiation leaking, and formed some sort of bizarre military unit, the only purpose of which was to be prepared and wait for the return of the High Guard."

"As fascinating as it sounds," Desabri shrugged (and he _was_ fascinated by the news, Höhne could see it in the glow of his black eyes), "what do _we_ have to do with this…situation, as you called it?"

"We have been asked to send tutors and administrators to GS92196, to help re-establish these youths into normal society," Nabroth explained.

Sarin, the Director of Planetary Defences, shook his head. "I'd advise against that. The station is practically in Magog space. The risks are too great. We can't send our people to certain death."

"According to the reports, the Magog threat has been eliminated," Nabroth said.

"Eliminated?" Cernan asked sharply. "How? There were three billion Magog in the Dyhedra System!"

"They're gone," Nabroth said, almost tonelessly. Not that he felt sorry for the homicidal monsters, but something of this magnitude had shaken him badly. "According to my sources, those young people managed to get the Argosy code needed to open the sealed hangar of the slipfighters that were stationed at GS92196. Those slipfighters were armed with Nova bombs."

_The Universe has gone mad,_ Höhne thought worriedly. _We haven't heard from Nova bombs since…well, since forever, and now everyone seems to have them. Except us. This doesn't bode well for Sinti._

"How could they get the code?" Sarin demanded. "Who could be stupid enough to allow _children_ to get their hands on _Nova bombs_? And how reliable is the source of this intel?"

"As reliable as any source can be," Nabroth said. "I've been contacted by Ezekial Hakim, the Sabran Alpha of Centauris A. It seems that he'd been warned by some other Nietzschean that the young ones on GS92196 planned to take out their colony next. Fortunately – for them, anyway – they were stopped by the _Andromeda Ascendant_."

"That's odd," Sarin said. "What was the _Andromeda_ doing there in the first place?"

"Looking for a drydock for repairs, most likely," Höhne said. "But if she was there, then it had to be Captain Hunt who gave the children the code."

"No High Guard captain could be _that_ foolish!" Sarin growled. He had developed quite a military mind during his long years of service – something that was rather seldom among Perseids.

"He probably didn't know what was kept in that hangar," Höhne defended the human. "By the way, who is the one wanting us to help those…children?"

"None other than Captain Hunt personally," Nabroth said. "He seems responsible for them, but doesn't have the means to give them what they need."

"With other worlds, he made an utterly foolish mistake, and now he wants _us_ to iron things out for him?" Cernan asked, unbelievingly. "Why should we ever consider doing that?"

"Because he is a careless idiot with Nova bombs under his arm, perhaps?" Sarin commented with biting irony. "Giving top secret codes to mentally unstable adolescents, without thinking of the possible consequences…" He shook his head in disbelief.

"He says he's sent the slipfighters with the remaining Nova bombs into slipstream by remote control," Nabroth said. As if that would have made anything better. Who knew how many worlds would die a fiery death, should those fighters somehow find a way out of slipstream?

"Do we have any proof for that?" Cernan asked sharply.

"No," Nabroth admitted. "Which is exactly the reason why I believe that we should do as he asks. That would get us into regular contact with him, leading to the result that some of us could get the chance to take a look at that pompous ship of his."

He looked directly at Höhne, who nodded. "I'd certainly like such a chance very much. Not only because of the bombs. Studying intact technology from the Commonwealth era could be valuable for our work. Not to mention that access to the remaining technology on GS92196 could benefit us just as greatly."

"Agreed," Nabroth said. "I'll see that you and your assistants get that chance, as soon as possible. Just keep your eyes open for those Nova bombs, in case there still are a few of them aboard…on either place."

Höhne withstood the urge to tell this self-important fool that he didn't need to be reminded of such basic things. He picked his fights with Nabroth very carefully, as the Overseer could be a nasty opponent. It was counterproductive to fight with him over insignificant things. Bad enough that the important discussions always cost so much time. But there was no way around it. Nabroth's influence was unquestionable, based on his success and not on his personality.

The discussion turned to other topics; topics that held little interest for Höhne, as they didn't fall into his area of expertise or responsibility. Instead, his thoughts circled around the latest intel about the _Andromeda Ascendant_ and her little encounter with the derelict High Guard station.

There were too many holes in that story; information, either untold by Nabroth as insignificant (that fool thought himself capable of judging which technical data might be significant and which might not) or held back consciously by Captain Hunt. That was not acceptable. They needed every bit of data if they wanted to be able to estimate the possible danger these new players might pose for their world. If Nabroth had been idiotic enough _not_ to ask, someone else had to do it.

It was time for their secret society to make a discreet move again.

Höhne raised his head and looked directly at Desabri, rubbing his wrist in a seemingly absent manner. They needed to speak, without the others spying on them. Desabri returned the sign, and then he pressed his fingertips together, forming a tent-like shape with his hands. Then he falted said hands again and nodded in Nabroth's direction.

Which meant: _Come to my office after the Council meeting._ Höhne signalled his agreement by rubbing the invisible tattoo on his wrist again (one needed a special light spectrum to actually _see_ it) and continued pretending to listen to Nabroth's speech. Considering how the Overseer was droning on about he importance of these new aspects for the balance of power in their sector, it would took them at least two local hours to get together and _do_ something about it.

TBC


	2. Part 2

**BIRTHRIGHT 1 – THE ASSIGNMENT**

**by Soledad**

For disclaimer, rating, etc., see Part 1.

**Author's note:**

Kiviaho is the nameless Perseid scientist from the episode _Banks of the Lethe_. I named him after the actor who played him. Obviously, Sarin is an original character, and so is Desabri. Covlob is the Perseid monk of Ep. 1.07, _The Ties that Blind_. The silly name is my addition.

Dylan's recruiting speech is directly quoted from Ep. 1.02, _An Affirming Flame_. Some of Höhne's scientific explanation is taken from Ep. 1.08, _The Banks of the Lethe_. Everything else is mine. g>

* * *

**PART 2 **

In the end, it took Höhne more than just two hours to reach Desabri's office in the Historical Institute, which also housed Sinti IV's Academy of Social Sciences, of which Desabri happened to be the chairman. He had to gather all available data about the ship and the station first, and about the Dyhedra System as well, as – considering its former importance for their work (meaning _before_ if had become one of the Magog breeding centres) – he was quite certain that Desabri would want to know everything that was there to know. Quite frankly, so would Höhne himself.

In any case, he had gathered everything he could and left Rekeeb, his youngest assistant, at he computer to cross-guess the data that were already there and so probably find new information. Rekeeb was nothing if not thorough – if there was anything else to find, he would find it. Once again, Höhne congratulated himself for having listened to Kiviaho, one of his closest co-workers and chief assistant, when the latter asked him to take the youngling under his wings.

Perseids rarely suggested their own offspring for a position in their own working place, as family ties were practically nonexistent, kept only in order to avoid inbreeding. But at that time, the Institute _had_ needed someone with a degree in astrophysics (which Rekeeb happened to have, with a concentration on slipstream dynamics), and Höhne had hoped that the young researcher had earned at least some of his parent's scientific brilliance. As it turned out, that was indeed the case, and the three of them quickly formed an easy and efficient working relationship.

Desabri had also done considerable research work, it seemed. When Höhne arrived, the head of the secret bound of the All Systems University librarians was evaluating what little they knew about the history of GS92196 and the Dyhedra System after the Fall. Höhne recognized the person assisting him at once. It was Rannveig, Desabri's right hand, and an excellent historian himself.

Of course he recognized Rannveig. They had worked together for several years, half a lifetime ago, when Höhne had been researching historical files for any possible information about Commonwealth slipstream technology, and Rannveig had been assigned to him to help creating a reliable database. They had travelled together across three galaxies for a long time, visiting every world where they could hope to recover lost data. From Castalia to Möbius, from Marduk to Schopenhauer's world and Enkindu, to San-Ska-Re and even Earth, although visiting the Magog-ridden homeworld of humanity, enslaved by the Drago-Kazov Nietzscheans, was considered a suicide mission.

They had even procreated together. Twice.

That was highly unusual for Perseids, as they didn't form sexual bonds like humans – and even Nietzscheans – did. _When_ they bred they did it in an exclusively practical manner. But Höhne and Rannveig happened to come into oestrus at the same time during one of their long journeys, and since they both could offer excellent traits to hand down to possible offspring, they decided to bear each other's children.

Höhne always chose the best candidates to mingle himself with. And Rannveig had a lot to offer: a keen intelligence, a robust physique, and a curious and courageous nature that wasn't very common among Perseids. Thus Höhne found – even in hindsight – that mixing their genes had been a good choice.

The fact that they had done it a second time had been the result of the long, forced isolation on some abandoned backwater research station. Not that Perseids would _need_ to breed every time they were in oestrus – which happened in every three years, based on Ugroth's reckoning, as their metabolism was still keyed to the cycles of the homeworld – but they had been the only people there, and the chance that they'd never be found was alarmingly high. _Someone_ had to continue their work and save the precious data they had recovered. Even if they had to create a whole new generation for that purpose.

They _had_ been found and rescued by a Than ship after all. Their offspring, already two years old by then, had been sent to the education centre, as it was custom, and their ways had parted, their shared work done. But Höhne had followed Rannveig's career as well as he could, and he was impressed by the historian's achievements.

Rannveig was, indeed, as reckless as any Perseid could ever hope to be. Using various aliases – the most amusing of which was a Castalian air-breather named Adrian Ranweigh – he continued travelling to the most dangerous places, and he kept an extensive net of contacts on hundreds of worlds. None of these informants had ever seen his face; only computer-generated false images of him, and most of them knew him only by one of his fake names. He led a dangerous life and seemed to enjoy it – again, highly unusual for a Perseid.

But that was the very reason he was so useful for the All Systems University librarians. And Höhne was truly pleased to see him again.

"Rannveig!" he cried out in delight, and they embraced each other warmly. "How are you doing?"

"Splendidly," Rannveig answered, rubbing his chin against Höhne's affectionately. "Still travelling a lot. Settling down like you wouldn't suit me, as you might guess. Just came back from the Hephaestus System – what a mess! But you scientist guys would have the time of your lives examining it, I deem."

"No doubt," Höhne laughed, slipping back into the easy banter that had always made working with Rannveig such a pleasant experience. "I might suggest Kiviaho something like that. He'd be ecstatic."

"_And_ a research project like that would justify asking the aid of the _Andromeda Ascendant_," Desabri grinned smugly.

Höhne grinned back at him. "Exactly. And as a good little High Guard officer, Captain Hunt would be eager to assist the very people who helped humans to become a member of the Commonwealth, despite Vedran reluctance to accept them."

"Especially since his declared goal is the resurrection of the Commonwealth," Desabri said.

At that, Höhne laughed so hard that the black leather cap he wore to hide the deep scars, caused by a Magog attack almost a decade ago, nearly slipped from his head. "You are kidding, aren't you?"

"Not at all," replied Desabri, handing him a flexi. "One of our people, Covlob, is a monk in the Starlight and Stillwater Wayist monastery, as you know. They got this communiqué from the only Magog Wayist known in our time, one Reverend Behemial Far-Traveller. Take a look!"

His curiosity piqued, Höhne activated the flexi. A human in an ancient High Guard uniform, with slightly long hair and disturbingly pale eyes like those of the sea serpents in Ugroth's oceans, stared at him from the record. Well, actually not exactly at him, but at a small group of ragged-looking people who seemed to listen to him in stunned disbelief…not necessarily the admiring sort. More as if they weren't entirely sure that the man wasn't slightly…crazed.

"I'll make this quick," the officer said, very obviously trying to make a heroic impression. "This isn't my time anymore. I've checked your historical records, and since my time, life has gotten a lot harder. Civilization is in tatters, the strong prey on the weak, there is no justice, there's no unity, there's no law. I intend to change all that. The Commonwealth wasn't just an institution. It was a dream. But dreams don't die. And as long as I'm alive and in command of the _Andromeda_, neither will the Commonwealth."

"Then it's time for a change of command," Rannveig commented cynically. "The man is obviously insane."

"I'm not so sure about that," Höhne said thoughtfully, "but this is hardly the right time to discuss it. A lot depends on how many of the original crew have survived? Do we have any reliable data?"

Desabri snorted. "None, aside from Hunt. Apparently, he ordered the entire crew to board the escape pods and ejected them before getting trapped in the event horizon of the Hephaestus black hole."

"That was the accretion disk, actually," Höhne corrected mildly.

Desabri shrugged. He was an historian, not a scientist and didn't even try to understand the difference.

"Whatever," he said. "The fact is, according to Brother Covlob, the 'crew' of the _Andromeda_, if you can call that a crew, contains of the human captain of the salvage ship that pulled her out of the event…the accretion disk, a human engineer from Earth, no less, the Magog Wayist, a Nietzschean mercenary and a purple…being with a tail, the like of which nobody has seen before."

"Five civilians, trying to do the work of four thousand well-trained Commonwealth soldiers," Rannveig added, with an exasperated shake of his head. "_Including_ a Nietzschean who'll shoot them in the back by the first chance to seize the ship for himself."

"That won't be easy, with the ship's AI intact," Höhne said. "High Guard ships are sentient – and extremely loyal to their captain. Reprogramming them would require great skill…and long, _undisturbed_ access to the core AI."

"Could _you_ do it?" Desabri asked.

Höhne thought about that for a while.

"I don't know," he finally answered. "Certainly not alone. Not without the help of someone who has a surgically implanted data chip in his brain like Rannveig. An organic brain is simply too slow to outwit a core AI of that size."

"I see," Desabri said. "Well, we'll have to find a way to get you – both of you – aboard that ship. The recent events at GS92196 show that Captain Hunt is a risk for us all. A risk that cannot be left uncontrolled. Not to mention that Nietzschean having access to the biggest arsenal in known space."

"We should show interest in Captain Hunt's 'quest'," Höhne suggested. "That, and a shared science project could get me onboard the _Andromeda_. As for the rest…we'll see."

"Are you truly interested in the black hole?" Desabri asked. "Can you fake a project that would fool the ship's scientific databanks?"

"I don't have to fake one," Höhne shrugged. "The fact is, Kiviaho, Rekeeb, and I have been working on mapping the wave function of the universe for years by now. Once we succeed, the possibilities will be endless. Faster-than-light communication, predictable slipstream travel, perhaps even teleportation. Not to mention…"

Desabri raised both hands. "Thank you, I got the picture. But how comes the _Andromeda_ into all this?"

"The ship would be an extraordinary research platform," Höhne explained. "She has a quantum computer – a true marvel to behold. Unfortunately, it's the last of that kind. Unless the 'the ghost ship of Tau Ceti Six', as they call it, is more than a legend, that is. But perhaps given the chance to study it thoroughly, we could reverse-engineer that sort of computer. We have the people, the resources, and the talent. All we need is the specs."

"I still don't understand what you'd need the _Andromeda_ for," Desabri said. "How could she be useful for your research?"

"The core AI should be able to establish a quantum interface with the black hole. Theoretically, at least. Not permanently – that would damage it, which I would never risk – but long enough for us to make tremendous headway."

"And you believe Captain Hunt would allow you to use his precious ship as a lab rat?" Desabri had legitimate doubts about that.

"No, unless he can hope that Sinti IV would sign up to the new Commonwealth he wants to create," Höhne said.

Desabri glared at him as if afraid that he'd lost his otherwise excellent mind.

"Why would we want to do _that_? That quest is just as insane as Captain Hunt himself. Or do you really believe that restoring the Commonwealth would be possible? Or even desirable?"

"No," Höhne said, "at least not as it used to be. As you've explained the Council numerous times, the Commonwealth's fall was triggered by the fact that it had been created by conquest in the first place. And that it had overgrown the size which would have been easily manageable. But Captain Hunt's _attempts_ to recreate it could result in a small alliance between similarly minded worlds, at the very least. And in the face of the current threats, be it the Magog, the Nietzscheans, the Kalderans, or the Restorians, just to name a few, we could use some allies. Not to mention the firepower of the _Andromeda Ascendant_."

"And the chance that with the help of the _Andromeda,_ we might be able to get our hands on other derelict High Guard ships of the line," Desabri nodded. "I see your point. But persuading the Council to sign up for such an insane quest won't be easy."

"Can I count on _your_ vote?" Höhne asked.

"Of course," Desabri said. "And I think winning over Cernan and Sarin won't be that hard. Especially Sarin, he's always concerned about our world's safety… and with a good reason, I'd say. But the others…I don't know. Nabroth will be the main hindrance."

"I know," Höhne sighed. "We'll have to work on this subtly and patiently. At least he was all for sending me to study the _Andromeda_."

"True enough," Desabri said. 'We're in a good position, right now. Hunt's request will give us the chance of accessing both his ship _and_ GS92196. Those are chances we cannot have unused."

"Oh, I completely agree," Höhne laughed. "But there's one more thing we might want to try. Did you find any reliable data about the Dyhedra System before it got overrun by the Magog?"

"Some. Dyhedra XVI was the location of the most extensive archive of the All Systems University, as you know," Desabri paused. "Do you really believe that the planet might have survived the explosion?"

Höhne handed him a flexi. "Look at this. Dyhedra XVI used to be on the extreme outer border of that sun's gravitation field. Kiviaho and I calculated the possible trajectory, in case the explosion had hurled it _outward_ of its orbit. In fact, the shockwaves might have thrown it into some neighbourhood systems. Or sent it on an irregular course. These are the possibilities."

"Do you think the archive could have survived an explosion of such cataclysmic magnitude?" Desabri asked, studying the trajectory lines with a frown. Höhne shrugged.

"I don't know. Dyhedra XVI was barely more than a planetoid, but the archive used to be buried under solid rock. Under miles upon miles of solid rock, with a well-sealed access tunnel only. It was meant to be an emergency databank, after all, in case something happened to the main archive."

"Hmmm…" Desabri's frown deepened. "If there's a chance to retrieve the archive, we should try. So much got lost during the Long Night, so little have we been able to secure, even after three hundred years. Who knows what we might find in the archive, should it still exist. It could be a gold mine, both for historians _and_ scientists."

"My thoughts exactly," Höhne agreed. "And we happen to know just the right person for the job, don't we?"

Rannveig grinned at him in excitement.

"I can see where this conversation is heading," he said, and Höhne grinned back at him.

"Who'd be better suited for this assignment than you? You are known to travel across the Known Worlds, visit strange places, and ask weird questions. _And_ you have the means to store the entire archive in your head, so that no-one can find it."

"Do you think there'd be others looking for the data?" Rannveig asked. Höhne hesitated for a moment, before answering.

"I don't know," he said. "But it'd be naïve to assume that we're the only ones who know about their existence. The All Systems University used to be a huge organization, with databanks scattered all across three galaxies. There's no way to know how many of them have survived the Fall – and who got their hands on them. You must be very careful, Rannveig. This assignment can be dangerous."

"That possibility never stopped me," Rannveig said with a grin even boarder than before.

"I know," Höhne replied. "That's why you are the best choice for this job. We'll help you with everything we can, but in the end, you'll be alone."

"Don't worry," Rannveig said, "this won't be the first time. Do you have a ship for me? Something small, fast, and tough?"

"Indeed, I have. It's a new model our construction department has just finished a short time ago. It looks like a one-man courier ship but is very tough and fast; it even has some rather effective weaponry. We've thoroughly tested it, both in normal space and in slipstream. All bugs have been ironed out, be assured. In fact, serial production could start any time now."

"Does it mean that I get the prototype?"

"No, we've built two more already. I've got great hopes for them; we're working on the two-man version right now. I intend to use one of those as my own ship, soon."

"All right," Rannveig nodded. "Let's say I _do_ find the archive, unlikely as it is. What am I supposed to do with it? Bring it home?"

"No," Höhne said grimly. "I have the uncomfortable feeling that that wouldn't be safe. Should you find it, go directly to the _Andromeda Ascendant_. I hope I'll be there already, with an assistant or two, but even if not, you must stay there and wait for me. Right now, the _Andromeda_ is probably the safest place in the Known Worlds. And on a ship of her size, with a computer as complex as hers, you'll have plenty of opportunities to hide the archive – or, at least, a copy of it."

"I understand," Rannveig said. "When can I have my ship?"

"You could have it right now," Höhne answered, "but we must fake some convincing assignment for you first. I'll have Rekeeb program the ship's computer with all the data you might need, but it has to be heavily encrypted. And we'll overlay it with lots of insignificant rubbish…in case the ship's boarded. I'd say, in two days' time."

Rannveig nodded. "That'd be enough for preparations. Where do you want me to leave messages for you if I succeed?"

"Nowhere," Höhne said promptly. "Just go directly to the _Andromeda_. The less is known about your mission, the better. And Rannveig?"

"Yes?"

"Don't tell Captain Hunt anything, should you arrive before me. We'll provide some believable reason for you to seek out the _Andromeda_."

"Are you not telling him about the archive at all?"

"I will…later perhaps. When I've met him and seen what kind of person he really is. Right now, I don't know whether we can trust him or not."

"All right," Rannveig said. "I'm looking forward to see you on that glorious relic."

Höhne laughed and shook his head in fond appreciation. "You are a peculiar creature, Rannveig,"

"I know," Rannveig grinned at him again. "That's what makes me so popular among my fellow librarians. Very well, I'm gone now to settle a few personal things. See you aboard the _Andromeda Ascendant_."

"I hope so," Höhne answered seriously.

The End -


End file.
